The Most Dangerous Teddy Bear
by Stealing the Moonlight
Summary: All Tom wanted was someone to call an equal. All Harry wanted was a real friend. Both got what they wanted but not how they expected. TR/HP future male/male. Contains fluff, angst, hilarity, BB!Harry, and Teddy!Tom. There will be smut later on. R
1. Chapter 1

**The Most Dangerous Teddy Bear**

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Tom Riddle or Voldemort or Harry Potter. If I did, well... a little something like this would happen. **

**This story was inspired by my Voldemort stuffed toy!**

**A/N: So this is my second try at FanFiction. I apologize to all the people who read and reviewed my last story but my muse went POOF. Hopefully, my muse will stay with me longer with this one. I'll probably have more motivation since this is my OTP. I rated it M for swearing and all that jazz. At the moment, there's not that much contact between Harry and Tom, well, sexually that is but they will eventually. Yes male on male contact in later chapters so if you just stumbled upon this and are a homophobe or don't like this pairing, I'd appreciate if you just moved on peacefully. I think that's all so... GERONIMO!**

"Normal speech"

'_Thoughts'_

"_Parsletongue"

* * *

_

The short, round man at the front of the classroom was peering down at a list of names on the board. The floorboards creaked as Slughorn shifted his weight to reach for his wand on his desk. With a flick of his wand, a tiny piece of white chalk began to write out names of the students before him. He was writing out partners that were to be paired up.

Tom restrained himself from grunting with dismay after reading his name being paired up with a Hufflepuff girl he knew to be obnoxiously loud. Instead, he kept his back straight and winked at his new potions partner matched with his trademark grin. Of course, she gave the expected reaction; blushing and attempted to send him a charming smile back. Unfortunately for her, Tom held absolutely no interest towards her and pretended that he didn't see the girl. Disappointed, he picked up his things and moved towards his new partner knowing that it would be a long day.

"Hi Tom," Lydia Smith looked up from her seat beaming up at the brunette boy. Tucking her flat, shiny, and neat hair behind her ear, she crossed her right leg over her left and gently kicked Tom's chair. It was a gesture for him to take a seat though it was obvious that he was going to anyway.

"Hello Lydia," Tom held his smile and sat down swiftly beside the girl using all his willpower to not look strained. His robes swished out of his way as he shifted his shoulders to point at Lydia. It was important that his body language seemed like he was interested in her as well.

The professor coughed at the front of the room to gain attention from the students. Without saying a word, he pointed at the board with his wand. The names were replaced with instructions for a potion. The potion apparently granted wishes that the brewer deserved. As the class rustled about to start up, Slughorn rambled on about some story that wasn't nearly as interesting as the professor thought it to be. While one ear was being talked off by the man with the walrus moustache, Tom's right ear was about to fall off by Lydia's chatter. Occasionally, Tom slipped in an "uh huh" or "Oh really?" or better yet, "That's lovely, Lydia". The idiot girl truly did believe that the handsome Slytherin was actually listening to her petty little story. The potion that they were to do was simple and Tom could have done it in his sleep but it was far more interesting than whatever Lydia or Slughorn were going on about.

As he was stuffing ingredients into the cauldron like he had the instructions engraved in his memory, something off in the corner of the desk caught the prefect's eye. Lydia had left to go to the loo so he was sitting at their table by himself. Thank Merlin. It was a four leafed clover. It was the next item he was to put in next and the last. The ingredient was meant to put luck into the wish of the person who brewed the potion. Staring at it, he twirled the clover between his fingers. He had heard of the silly myths of this silly leaf. Luck and leprechauns were foolishness in Tom's eyes. He hadn't cared enough to look into it to see if the plant truly did hold such power.

Smirking, he twirled the clover a third time before placing it in the cauldron. _'Finished'. _Out of humour, he whispered low enough for only him to hear, "Alright potion. What sort of wish do I deserve?" Feeling like an idiot, Tom shut up. However, at the back of his mind, he really did have a wish. He wanted to meet his equal, someone who didn't giggle at every single word that he spoke. Glancing towards the door, Tom made sure that Lydia was still gone. The partners were meant to make a wish together and share it between each other. Obviously Tom was thinking otherwise. Deciding that he might as well give it a try, he stirred the potion and said in a monotone voice, "An equal. I wish for an equal." With that, he took a tiny sip of the potion with a spoon that was by this hand.

Why Tom bothered wishing for that, he didn't know why. He wasn't even sure what he would say or how he would react towards his "equal". A part of him wanted to destroy every living particle in his "equal's" body. The last thing he needed was another Dark Lord that was on the rise as well. The competition would waste his time. Then again, another part of Tom wanted to have a conversation with said equal. It would be the first time someone would be able to keep up with him. The only person Tom had met that was as intelligent (or more so but Tom would never admit to that) was Dumbledore. Tom almost shivered at the thought of that. He hoped that Dumbledore wasn't his equal. That would be such a disappointment. But what if his wish didn't come true? The potion was only meant to grant wishes that the brewer deserved. He had killed his father. Did he really deserve to meet someone that would be considered his equal? Shaking the thought off, Tom growled at himself inwardly. _'Of course I deserve this,'_ he almost rolled his eyes at himself, _'This is silly.'_

Right then, the bell rang. Lydia had returned as well. Before she could even say a word to him, Tom grabbed his books and rushed out the door to his bedroom leaving her to bottle up the potion herself. Goodness was he ever glad that he had a room to himself because he was a prefect. For some reason, he was feeling especially tired that afternoon. Shutting the door behind him and dropping his school bag by his bed, Tom decided to take a nap. Yawning and too tired to change, he lay down on the bed in his uniform, and fell into a deep sleep.

About an hour later, he woke up feeling very groggy and stiff for some odd reason. His eyes were wide open and he couldn't move. _'What?'_ He couldn't even blink. What was happing to him? A door slammed shut and it veered his attention from himself. The next thing he knew, Tom Riddle was staring into the innocent and defeat emerald eyes of a little boy.

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**Alright. I have a few notes. ****(I promise my author's note won't be this long every chapter)**

**My posts will be a bit sporadic depending on my muse and how much time I have. I have school, homework, volleyball, and other things I need to tend to some days. That said, I also have huge amounts of spare time on other days. SO. My posts will have no pattern what so ever. Hell, my next post might be today or even tomorrow... or next month. Not even I know. I hope it's not next month 'cause that would be bad.**

**Also. I need a beta. That would be cool. Spellcheck can only do so much. Sometimes, it even screws things up. Like one time I typed in "Slytherin" and the autocorrect thing changed it to "slithering".**

**No, Harry will not be a little boy this entire story, only for the first bit. It just makes more sense since Tom's a teddy now that Harry would be a little boy. Don't worry, when the "action" actually happens, Harry will be at most one year younger than Tom.**

**At the moment, Tom is a seventh year, in case you were wondering.**

**R & R please! Oh and no flames, thanks.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Most Dangerous Teddy Bear**

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Tom Riddle or Voldemort or Harry Potter. If I did, well... a little something like this would happen. **

**This story was inspired by my Voldemort stuffed toy!**

**A/N: Thanks for the subscriptions and the reviews! So there are a lot of people subscribing to this and well... I have to confess, I'm preeetty intimidated haha. I hope I don't let anyone down. And thanks SnowDusk, what I mean by "BB!Harry" is basically "Baby!Harry". As for ****Joanna23, it will take about... 6 to 8 chapters until Tommy turns back.**

**I know in the summery I said that there might be angst later on, but I changed the summery. There **_**is**_** angst in this chapter, I warn you. Basically, all the angst will be coming from Harry and all the hilarity will be from Tom. Ironic, isn't it?**

**I rated it M for swearing and all that jazz. At the moment, there's not that much contact between Harry and Tom, well, sexually that is but they will eventually. Yes male on male contact in later chapters so if you just stumbled upon this and are a homophobe or don't like this pairing, I'd appreciate if you just moved on peacefully. I think that's all so... GERONIMO!**

"Normal speech"

'_Thoughts'_

"_Parsletongue"

* * *

_

_Last time..._

_About an hour later, he woke up feeling very groggy and stiff for some odd reason. His eyes were wide open and he couldn't move. __'What?'__ He couldn't even blink. What was happing to him? A door slammed shut and it veered his attention from himself. The next thing he knew, Tom Riddle was staring into the innocent and defeat emerald eyes of a little boy._

Harry's POV

July 31, 1985

_Whack!_

A fat, stubby fist came to contact with Harry's cheekbone. It wasn't a particularly hard punch. No, a five year old Dudley wasn't strong enough to leave any sort of mark. The scrawny, malnourished Harry was just weak enough to crumple down onto the ground from a hit like that and hope that Dudley wouldn't punch him again. Closing his eyes, he heard the fatter boy's laugh being directed down towards him. Harry didn't cry. He refused to cry. He wasn't going to show Dudley that he had hurt him despite the fact that he was already on the ground nor did he want to contribute to the enlargement of Dudley's ego. The only reason why his eyes were closed was because if Dudley decided to punch him square in between his eyes, nothing from his glasses would get in his eyes.

"Freak," the only Dursley spawn kicked Harry while he was still lying on the ground. That one hurt and it was going to leave a bruise on his arm. Fortunately, none of Dudley's friends were over. Having Dudley pummel him was bad enough and Harry really didn't want Dudley's crew to think that they should be doing a group effort. It wasn't anything new for the plump Dursley son to be using Harry as his personal punching bag but that day was special.

It was Harry's birthday.

That was the day when Dudley would give Harry special treatment. No, he wasn't any nicer than he was already. If anything, he was crueller and liked to give Harry his annual "birthday beat up", a tradition that began two years before. If it weren't for Dudley's "gift", Harry would have forgotten all together what day it was.

Dudley continued to kick Harry until his arms, legs, and chest were covered with new bruises. It wasn't until he heard his mother call him in for bedtime, forgetting completely about the smaller boy. Waiting until Dudley walked into the house, Harry grunted and remained on the ground. Harry glared at the spot where Dudley stood with daggers as if the plump boy was still standing there.

It was so late in the day that the sun hardly showed anymore and the moon was already visible. Judging by his surroundings, it was probably around nine thirty at night. Any sensible guardian would have stormed out of their house looking for the child that they were meant to look after. Clearly the Dursley weren't what you would call "sensible".

He was glad, too, that neither Vernon nor Petunia bothered to come out to find him. Harry would much rather lay there on the dirty ground after being beaten up than have either of the adults pretending to care about him. At five years old, Harry knew that he wasn't wanted in their household but frankly, he stopped caring. Of course he wished that his parents hadn't died in that car crash. He wished that he hadn't gotten that stupid scar on his forehead.

But that was all in the past.

Obviously the present wasn't doing that well for him. Hell, it was his birthday and the only "present" that he had gotten was a colourful little button from Petunia's sewing set. Harry reached into his pocket to pull out the little thing. Holding it up to the sky, Harry examined the button as if it were a diamond. Knowing that it wasn't anything special, he squeezed it in his tiny little hand and shoved it back in his pocket.

Sighing, he realized how strange he must look to someone who was passing by. After all, his petit and boney body was sprawled on the ground in a very uncomfortable position. Frankly, Harry couldn't have cared less. Though his left arm and right leg were bent in awkward ways, he was far too sore to fix himself up. In the middle of feeling sorry for himself, Harry spotted the first star in the sky. He wasn't much of a reader but he remembered walking by the telly while it was on the some informative show on astronomy. If he remembered correctly, it seemed to be the star called Sirius. It was bright enough to be so.

Blinking up at it, a little nursery rhyme that he overheard Petunia teaching Dudley. Not really thinking much of it, the malnourished Harry chanted out silently,

"Star light, star bright,

First star I see tonight;

I wish I may, I wish I might,

Have the wish I wish tonight."

Dark brown eyebrows strung together out of his confusion. Was he supposed to make a wish then? He stared up at the bright star as he thought of a suitable wish to make. Back to what he was thinking earlier, it would be stupid to wish for his parents to just suddenly rise from the dead and whisk him away from the big, bad, and ugly Dursleys. It was all in the past. So he had to make a wish about the future. Honestly, all he wanted was someone to care about him, remember his birthday, and think of him as an equal, not someone to beat up.

Harry wanted a friend.

"Did you hear that, star?" a high but tired voice broke the silence, "I... wish for a friend." He recited the poem once more for good measure.

"HARRY POTTER!" Harry flinched at the loud outburst coming from inside the house. Giving the star one last hopeful look, he pulled himself up into a sitting position. He was well aware of how furious Vernon must have been that his little gopher wasn't running about doing chores or slaving after Dudley. If it weren't for the fact that his entire body all but screamed at every movement he made, Harry would have hurried back into the house. Instead, Harry took his time careful as he got up onto his knees and eventually onto his shaky, small, and scuffed feet. He hadn't worn shoes knowing that Dudley would have just tied the shoe laces together and chuck them onto the nearest electrical post. So that left Harry with filthy toes.

"WHERE IS THAT BLASTED BOY?" Vernon gave another call. Attempting to pick up his pace, Harry decided to crawl his way back in as his legs were protesting far too much. He felt ridiculous. The huge thing and the baggy material that was practically hanging off his frame that he claimed to be his t-shirt and pants were dragging him down. The shirt almost engulfed his head so he was forced to hold his head up and so that he wouldn't run into anything.

Right at the front step, Harry used the door knob to help manoeuvre himself up just when the fat whale called Vernon swung the door open. The momentum threw the tiny little boy into the man rebounding him onto his back.

That time, he couldn't suppress any sounds of agony. Vernon clearly wasn't in the mood for feeling sympathetic for the orphaned boy. Growling, he grabbed Harry from the collar of his shirt and practically dragged him over to his cupboard under the stairs. Maybe Vernon was feeling some sort of guilt. On any other day, he would have forced Harry to do the dishes. For now, Harry was thankful.

"That should teach you to get into the house on time," with that, Vernon threw Harry into the cupboard and slammed the door. Thankfully, he didn't slam into the wall otherwise that would have ended up with another bruise if not a broken rib.

"Omph!" Harry's arm hit something that wasn't the wall of the cupboard. No, it wasn't hard or painful. The thing he had hit was soft, fuzzy, and ...cute? Sitting up painfully fast, Harry looked at the object with confusion and tugged on a sting to turn on the light bulb that badly lit up the tiny space of the cupboard.

Why was there a teddy bear in here?

Had the Dursleys given it to him for his birthday? No that was impossible. If Harry would have gotten anything that look remotely like a toy, it would have been a torn up and useless hand-me-down from Dudley. This teddy bear looked new, clean, and untouched.

Harry's emerald eyes examined the toy carefully as if it was some sort of bomb. Its entire body was black except for a white muzzle and ...were those _red_ eyes?

'_Who would make a teddy with red eyes?'_ Harry thought to himself and stretched out a hand to pick up the teddy. Still keeping it an arm's length away, he frowned as he still wondered where the teddy had come from.

That's when it hit him.

"The star!" Harry exclaimed but quiet enough for only him to hear and not someone outside. Grinning from ear to ear, Harry shoved the toy into his chest and squeezed as if someone was threatening to take it away from him. He buried his face into the head of the teddy bear and could stop grinning. He didn't care if this was just some cruel trick that Dudley was playing on him. All that mattered to the little boy was that he had some form of a friend and he wasn't willing to let the teddy go.

Tom's POV

'_OW!'_ a small hand came into contact with Tom's face and waking him up, '_Who DARES do that?'_ But the lack of noise coming from his mouth distracted him. _'What?'_ Tom tried again, '_What happened to my voice?'_ He continued on but not a peep came from his mouth.

He was so concentrated on the fact that he wasn't able to move, talk, blink, or even feel himself _breathe_. Being so caught up and overwhelmed by all this, Tom almost missed the enormous hand lifting from his face. As if he couldn't get even more confused by all this, Tom yelled inwardly seeing as he couldn't do otherwise.

He hated not knowing what was going on.

But the hand, how was it the size of Tom's head but look so immature? It looked like it belonged to a five year old yet the size of a twenty year old man? His thoughts were confirmed when a light came on. He got a better look at his surroundings. They were in a small, dark, and stuffy area. It was only big enough to fit in a tiny mattress and one person the size of a child.

The child that had assaulted Tom decided to pick him up. Was Tom with giants?

'_WHAT ARE YOU DOING?' _Tom did his best to squirm out of the child's grasp but he had no such luck, _'Put me down this instant you stupid boy!'_

'_That's right! You better be scared of me –'_ Tom froze, well, he stopped struggling. The boy that was holding him looked absolutely terrified and confused at the same time.

But his appearance.

Black hair, light skin; for just a second, Tom thought that he was staring at a five year old version of himself. But the other's hair was straight and messy while Tom's was naturally wavy and neat and his eyes were vibrant green while Tom's were brown with a hint of red. But the emeralds had something in common with Tom's browns; they showed hopelessness, doubt, and sadness. All of which Tom thought was absolutely silly. In Tom's eyes, he was the only one who had the right to hold such a look in his eyes. The other boy must have been depressed over not getting a toy. Looking around at their surroundings and the boy's skin kissed with bruises, it was clear that the boy was being abused but Tom refused to believe that this child had it any worse than he had it.

But the look in the other's eyes was like looking into a mirror and it made Tom feel very uncomfortable. It was like looking at another version of him but with a different appearance.

Like an equal.

Tom felt like his eyes went comically wide. _'Nonononononono,' _if he had control over his body, he would have shaken his head rapidly, _'He is __**not**__ my equal. He is just a child!'_ Grunting, Tom observed the other's facial expression. It was as if the boy was thinking the exact same thing.

Though, his reaction was the exact opposite of Tom's. Instead of disappointment, he beamed like none other

"The star!"

'_What? What star?' _the next thing Tom knew, he was face first against the boy's chest.

'_What in the name of Merlin are you doing?'_ even though they were only his thoughts technically, Tom could have sworn that his voice still sounded like it was muffled by the other's oversized shirt. The boy only squeezed him tighter.

Tom Riddle was being _hugged_ by a five year old boy.

Beyond his unheard curses and threats directed at Tom's captor, he came to realize that no one else had actually embraced him in such a way. But Tom shook off that thought. He had no time for self-pity.

'_Stop it! Right now!' _but the boy didn't listen. If anything, he held on to Tom tighter and planted kisses on the top of his head. He had never been kissed by anyone before either. Of course all the girls in his year fantasized about such things but nothing would get Tom to ever comply with their wishes.

In mid thought, Tom felt the boy move and now he was lying down with Tom still in what felt like a choke hold. The light went out but Tom could feel his head getting wet.

'_Great. He's crying now,' _though his thoughts were dripping with irritation, Tom couldn't help but wonder why a small little boy would be crying seconds after beaming like a child during Christmas morning.

* * *

**Yes, I know that Sirius the star can only be seen in the Northern Hemisphere during the winter. I decided to twist it a bit because I thought that it would be a nice touch for Harry to wish on that particular star.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Tom Riddle or Voldemort or Harry Potter. If I did, well... a little something like this would happen.**

**This story was inspired by my Voldemort stuffed toy!**

**A/N: My god. I haven't updated this in ages. I apologize dearly for the wait. To reward you all for your patience, this chapter is relatively long in comparison to the others Well I'm back, as you can see. I reeeaaalllyy need a beta to both help me proof read the chapters AND constantly nag me to update haha.**

**Katzlol: Hmm… how do I explain this… While Tom wished for an equal, Harry wished for a friend. The best way for the two to get what they want was if Tom could turn into a friend that the Dursley's couldn't take away somehow (you'll see what I mean soon). If Harry had a human friend, Dudley surely would do his best to keep him clear from Harry or the Dursleys would just not allow him over or something of the like. He's a teddy bear so Harry can vent out all his problems/fears/whatnot without Tom being all "Yeah, yeah, I don't care, Muggle" (he doesn't know Harry's a wizard just yet), or something of the like. That's why he isn't allowed to talk. And well… teddies can't talk. At this point, he's just finding out who his equal is.**

**I rated it M for swearing and all that jazz. At the moment, there's not that much contact between Harry and Tom, well, sexually that is but they will eventually. Yes male on male contact in later chapters so if you just stumbled upon this and are a homophobe or don't like this pairing, I'd appreciate if you just moved on peacefully. I think that's all so... GERONIMO!**

"Normal speech"

'_Thoughts'_

"_Parsletongue"_

"Up!" A familiar, shrill voice startled Harry and Tom the next morning. For good measure, Petunia kicked at the door. "I said get up!"

Groggily, Harry stretched and rubbed at his eyes. He could still feel the soft, downy teddy bear resting on his arm and smiled softly. It seemed so surreal that a random teddy bear had appeared out of nowhere. It must have been magic! He didn't care what Uncle Vernon thought. It seemed like the only likely explanation as to how this all happened.

But the thought of his uncle made Harry frown. What if the Dursleys found his new teddy? Surely they would snatch it away. Perhaps they would give it to Dudley or accuse poor Harry that he had stolen his cousin's toy. The older boy had so many toys, he honestly wouldn't be able to tell if he had lost one or recognise it if it wasn't in the big pile where the rest were. In the end, Harry would just get blamed and get hit at some point. That wouldn't do.

Harry could remember a year ago when Dudley had been playing with his toys in the garden. Usually, the boy wasn't allowed to go anywhere near Petunia's plants. But of course, the spoiled child had found a way to do so while the woman was nowhere in sight. While Dudley had fun running around with his plastic planes and action figures, Harry had taken it upon himself to just go about with his usually gardening chores. At the corner of his eye, he would observe his chubby cousin and occasionally Dudley would smirk and tease Harry that he would never be able to have fun like him. Freaks weren't allowed to have fun. Somehow, one of Dudley's toys had rolled into Harry's working space unnoticed. Neither Dudley nor Harry knew that it had hidden itself in the bush.

Eventually, Dudley had lost interest in the expensive toys and rushed back into the house without picking up after himself. Apparently, he had migrated into his large room and started to entertain himself with the even more extravagant computer games and forgot all about what he had left behind in the garden.

When Harry had finished pulling out the weeds, he decided he might as well pick up the toys after his cousin. Petunia shrieked when she had come up to check on what Harry was doing. From what it looked like in her perspective, Harry had stolen Dudley's belongings and was playing in the front yard. It was even worse when she had discovered the misplaced action figure near her favourite lilies.

"Don't make me come in there, boy!" This time, the voice was father away but the malice in the tone was evident. "Make us breakfast!"

Sighing, Harry pulled the covers off of his small body and looked apologetically at the bear. "I'll be right back, Teddy. Aunt Petunia wants me to make breakfast for everyone." Just as he was going to put it down, he realized that he had to hide the bear. Gingerly lifting up a corner of his mattress, Harry pulled off two loose floor boards and carefully placed it in the hole.

"When I get back, I'll give you a name!" He promised his new friend. Before he grabbed his glasses and scampered out of his little cupboard from underneath the stairs, the small boy leant down and kissed the nose of the red-eyed bear and replaced the floorboards as well as the mattress.

"Coming Aunt Petunia!"

TMRHJP TMRHJP TMRHJP TMRHJP

Tom was livid.

Waking up early in the morning was one thing but being commanded to do so was another. Who the hell did this woman think she was? What was she doing in the Slytherin boy's dormitory? Huffing, Tom thought that he had opened his eyes. Frowning, or so it felt like he did, Tom did not see the ceiling of his four poster nor did he feel the familiar cool air from being in the dungeons. Instead, it seemed like he was underneath a room underneath a staircase and the air was quite humid. Someone shifting their weight made him recall the series of events that had transpired the night before.

If he could talk, he would have groaned rather loudly.

Beside him, the small boy too had just woken up but Tom remained tucked in between the child's arms to his dismay. He would have found the boy's change of expressions amusing had he not been a teddy bear and kept there against his own will. The boy was thinking about something. Perhaps about the crazy woman that had assaulted the door to the small room.

"Don't make me come in there, boy. Make us breakfast!"

The command confused Tom and it wasn't often that he was. He had half expected the green eyed kid to make some sort of complaint like most children would do if they were forced to tend to their chores. But instead, there was a small glint of fear in the boy's eyes. What was even more puzzling was that the child looked like he could be three years old that with the tiny, lanky limbs. But then again, he could easily look younger than he actually was. Though, it wasn't possible for him to be more than five years old. Even the most stupid of people wouldn't have a five year old cook breakfast or any meal for that matter. Not only would it be unsafe for the child, the boy could potentially burn the house down. Unless the boy had been taught to cook beforehand and supervised until he was adequate. Tom's eyes were averted to the bruises that peppered his petit frame. Abuse, most likely.

How the seventeen year old Slytherin felt about that, he wasn't sure. He had never met a child who had it as bad as him much less one that was being physically abused and treated like a house elf. Tom pondered on a lot of things like ruling the world, how disgusting muggles were, and what it would feel like to torture stupid people for being so ignorant. You know, normal things. However, Tom had never thought about kids that were beaten or anything of the like. He was too focused on the vermin of the world instead of the victims of injustice.

He didn't think about people that were like him.

When the Slytherin had been younger, he used to think to himself how unfair the world was. He didn't have parents. Other kids at the orphanage avoided him because he was strange. As much as the boy hated to admit it, sometimes, he _wanted_ them to invite him into their stupid, pointless games. At the time, he wanted to belong.

But of course, he grew up. Humans just naturally didn't like things that were out of normalcy. When he had been admitted into Hogwarts, he thought that things would be different. He believed that he would be able to find someone that was like him. Of course, it was several times better than that orphanage. At least he could delve into magic or explore the castle. But the children there still seemed to fear him. This time, it was a different sort of fear. At first, they would go on about how ridiculous it was that a _half blood _got put into Slytherin. It wasn't until a very dangerous outburst did they learn to respect then eventually be scared of him. Over the years, he acquired followers of sorts to help him rise to power.

It still didn't fill in the hole inside of him. He still wanted a genuine friend.

When he pictured him having a friend, Tom certainly did not think of a small boy around the age of five with vibrant green eyes, messy black hair, and round glasses. He had thought more along the lines of… honestly, he didn't picture what his ideal friend would be. Instead, he had just imagined the sort of conversations he would have with the other and how much they would have in common. He didn't care what the other would look like. Tom wanted an equal not a lover. So far the only thing that he had in common with the young child was a rather rough childhood. But because he appeared to be a muggle, that surpassed such an important common factor. All muggles were beneath him. Though, Tom did feel a strange and foreign feeling towards the boy. He didn't have the urge to be his friend. Goodness, no. He felt… certain protectiveness toward him. If Tom would have been able to, he still wouldn't whisk the child aware from his abusive masters. He would walk away from this situation but would most likely continue to think about the other boy. Maybe he would even feel guilty about doing so. Who knows? It wasn't like he could do that anyway. Tom would cross that bridge if he needed to.

"I'll be right back, Teddy. Aunt Petunia wants me to make breakfast for everyone."

Since he wasn't able to, Tom didn't bother with responding. He would be the only one to hear it anyway.

When Tom saw that the boy was prying two floorboards off, his mind was able to deduct what was about to transpire. It made sense; it wasn't like the boy would have his masters come find Tom and take the bear away from him.

That still didn't mean that he wanted to be shoved into the disgustingly dusty floor. Angrily, Tom willed with all his might for the boy to hear him. '_You are _not_ putting me in there!'_ He tried with all his might to wiggle and get himself to move but of course, he couldn't. Instead, he felt himself being lowered down into the hole. If Tom could, he would have grimaced like a child who had just been scolded.

"When I get back, I'll give you a name!"

'_I already have a name!'_ the bear wanted to scream. His inward grimace deepened even more when he felt the boy's soft lips kiss his nose. With that, he was left alone in the darkness with absolutely no way of getting out. Perhaps it was better. Maybe the people who kept the boy would tear him up to shreds if he was discovered. Even if Tom wasn't planning on dying at all, he certainly didn't want to go out being torn while he was a sodding teddy bear.

"Coming, Aunt Petunia!"

The grimace was replaced with a light frown. He was being abused by his own relatives? As little as Tom knew about familial matters, he was certain that normal families didn't hurt each other. It was common for a parent to give a light smack for discipline but that was a completely different matter than abuse. The bruises that were scattered around the boy's body were proof that someone was certainly hurting him on purpose.

Again, Tom wasn't sure if he cared about the matter or not. It wasn't as if the boy could do anything. He had more pressing matters at hand. For example, he had to find a way to turn back into a human. Seeing as the boy was gone and Tom was hidden away, surely he was going to be in his little hole for quite a while. That meant that he had a bundle of time that had been given to think about _how _on earth he was supposed to turn back. He wasn't sure that was even possible since he wasn't able to contact anyone.

What if this was some stupid ploy that Dumbledore had done?

It wouldn't be strange, come to think of it. The Transfiguration professor had been suspicious of him for quite some time. The man was right to think of Tom in such a way but that didn't stop the boy from detesting the old coot. It was even to the extent of fearing him. Tom had been careful with the Basilisk. After going through such great lengths to cover himself up, he was sure that the only people that would be able to know about what he had done were his Knights of Walpurgis. Much to his dismay, Dumbledore somehow had caught on to his schemes. Luckily, Tom had covered up his tracks so well; the old man had no proof and therefore could not convict the prefect.

When Tom had killed his father that summer, he had never felt so powerful. Yes, he had felt the same way when he had managed to control the basilisk and create his first horcrux but it was even better when creating his second. It was a wonderful feeling. While normal people liked to rely on others to make sure that they weren't hurt, Tom had to be independent. He had to lean on himself and by insuring his immortality, no one could touch him. Or so he thought.

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Long, dull hours had passed and the boy still had not returned to small little room. Even if Tom was not able to see if the boy had come back, he still would have been able to hear him. Tom had assumed that since he was forced to cook for whoever resided in the house, he was most likely off to do even more chores. Tom was only glad that he had to do no such things.

Occasionally, strange sounds would interrupt Tom's train of thoughts. He would hear heavy footsteps trump down the stairs and voices outside the door. From what he had gathered, there were three people that lived with the green eyed boy. There was a stern, gruff voice of a man, the shrill and annoy voice of the woman, and a high and whiny voice of another boy. At first, Tom thought that the two adults kept both boys as slaves of some sort. But soon after hearing the other boy's voice for the first time, the thought was quickly demolished.

He had been whining about how stupid his toys were and how he had grown out of them. Judging by how he was addressing the matter, it was obvious that the child was spoiled rotten. It made Tom wonder why his smaller companion was being mistreated. Perhaps it was because he was the nephew. The more annoying boy was obviously the son since he addressed the two adults as "Mummy" and "Dad" while Harry had called the woman "Aunt Petunia".

It didn't take much of their talking for Tom to block out their voices. He didn't want to listen in on their petty conversations no matter how bored he was. Instead, he pictured how they would look as if that was any more productive.

Judging by how heavily the stairs would creak every time the man would walk up them it was only obvious that the male was rather large. Must have been ugly too. The man would have disgusting wrinkles and fat rolls that were even on his face. He would have eaten so much junk that the beast would even be balding.

Whenever the woman passed by, he could hear the floor squeak slightly but it wasn't like her husband. In fact, he could hardly hear her pass by at all. He wouldn't know she would unless she was speaking. So 'Petunia' must have been those dreadfully skin types. Surely she would be the one making all the appearances to the public. She would be ugly too. Her nose would be too big on her face and the bones under her eyebrows would protrude out of her skull making her look like some cavewoman.

Their son was rather easy to picture. He would simply be a smaller version of his father combined with his mother's horrid bone structure.

Tom wasn't exactly sure why he was making all these people particularly grotesque. It was amusing, that was for sure. But it certainly wasn't because he wanted to make them ugly just because they were mistreating that boy!

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Sometime after inwardly sniggering at how he had imagined the people to look, Tom had fallen asleep. There wasn't much else he could do anyway. After an hour of attempting movement, he had just gotten too tired.

Slowly, Tom had woken up expecting to feel the dirty, cold wood of the hole in the floor to surround him as it did when he initially fell asleep. Instead, he felt a familiar duvet covering his legs, a flat pillow under his head, and the bed creaking under his weight.

'_What?'_ he thought to himself. He almost voiced his thoughts aloud but decided against it. He didn't want to raise question in his dorm mates should they wake up.

Had the whole ordeal been a dream? It would have explained much it had been. However, even for a dream, that one was rather peculiar. Most of the visions he had at night were flash backs of his earlier years at the orphanage. They also were not as vivid as that one. To Tom, it seemed like one of those dreams that psychologists would dissect. Around the orphanage, he had listened to girls go on about foolish books that claimed to decipher one's inner person with a dream. It was a strange way to try to get to know oneself. Tom knew his dreams and he wasn't able to settle himself by acknowledge what had happened as such. Yes, the boy was rather glad that he was able to move himself again but he couldn't help but still suspect Dumbledore was behind all this. Dream or not, perhaps the old man had slipped him a potion in order to make him feel some form of compassion for another human.

Checking the time, Tom realized how ungodly of an hour it was. It was five in the morning. While Tom was never much of a morning person, he wondered how on earth he was conscious at all at that moment. No matter, it was the perfect time.

Getting up, he was again grateful that he had a room himself. Either way, he wouldn't have cared if the other boys would have woken up. Tom gathered his belongings without so much an attempt at being quiet. Even if there was a possibility of the boys in the other room hearing him, he didn't bother with doing his best to let them sleep. There were more important things to worry about.

After showering quickly and getting dressed, Tom made his way to the Transfiguration Professor's headquarters by the time it was six o'clock. Whether or not the man was still asleep, Tom deemed it as unimportant. Slipping an unwanted potion into someone's drink was illegal not to mention annoying. Though, Tom wouldn't be able to testify being innocent in committing such a crime.

It didn't take long for Tom to navigate himself to the flamboyant wizard's chambers. The area was Tom's prefect nightly routes which the boy didn't think was a coincidence.

If he had it his way, Tom would have stormed in without knocking. He'd begin to accuse and would demand to know what the old fool had done to him. Not only would there be a possibility of Dumbledore –Merlin forbid– being indecent if Tom were to stride in but it would be a shamefully Gryffindor thing to do. So instead, Tom patiently knocked on the door but firmly enough to signify his urgency.

As if he was expecting someone, the professor opened the door a mere second after Tom had ceased to knock and let the boy in without question. Tom almost sneered. The way he saw it, Dumbledore was making no attempt to hide what he had done.

"Tea, my boy?" Was the first thing Tom was asked as soon as he had entered the chambers. Much like the way Dumbledore dressed, the area was eccentric and expressed the man very much so. The furniture was old fashioned but were jewel coloured. Tom couldn't help but suspect that the carpets that were lying on the stone floor were magical and could fly –despite magic carpets being illegal. Strange trinkets decorated the room. They looked expensive enough to be significant but not quaint enough to hold no meaning.

"No thank you, sir." Tom watched cautiously as the man decided to pour himself a cup with several spoons of sugar. A second after, Dumbledore gestured at a chair in front of the one he was on for the boy to sit down. Tom did.

"What brings you here at this time, Mr. Riddle?" He took a small sip from the cup, "I'd imagine that this must be urgent?"

"I," Tom paused and made sure to word things carefully, "I came to enquire about certain potions that would cause people to have certain dreams?"

Dumbledore's expression was difficult to read. To the untrained mind, he looked as if he was merely helping a student out with a mere potions question. However, Tom knew better. Even if Dumbledore had nothing to do with the matter, he would still be suspicious as to why Tom would ask such a thing.

"Ah, yes. There are such potions, my boy." The future headmaster nodded with his usual twinkling eyes and Tom almost sneered at the vagueness but expected no less. "There are many variations to something of the sort. Some can cause nightmares to those whom one dislikes. Some can dreams pleasant. Others can be manipulated at direction."

It was if the two were studying each other for sport. It was rather comedic how the two would stare in silence for brief moments. The moments were never too long, however.

"You see, sir," Tom kept his gaze steady. "I have a slight suspicion that one of the students in the other houses has been feeding one of my roommates this certain potion. He's getting rather loud at nights lately and I begin to worry."

"I see." Dumbledore nodded once more. "As much as I am grateful that you feel that you are able to approach me about such matters, why, Mr. Riddle, did you not go to Professor Slughorn? This query is in his field and he is your house's head, after all."

"Because, _sir_," Tom started to frown, "I have another question with regards to transfiguration. I assumed that you would know answers to both questions so I wouldn't have to bother with going back and forth."

"Ah, yes. Understandable. "What is your second enquiry?"

"I assume it is possible to transfigure someone into an inanimate object but it would take a lot of magic to do so as well as transporting someone to another place, yes?" Tom didn't mention that the 'inanimate object' in question was a teddy bear.

"Yes, of course."

"But would transfiguring someone into said object –without a possible chance of changing back since they remain inanimate– and transporting them into a dangerous place?"

"Yes, of course, Mr. Riddle. I was under the impression that you could answer such questions on your own." Tom could tell that Dumbledore was simply taunting him.

"Because, sir," Tom's tolerance was wearing thing, "I would like to know what the point of all said variables would be if someone were to move the transfigured object into a Muggle residence of peculiar attributes."

Tom was just waiting for Dumbledore to just avoid the question and ask him what sort of attributes he was speaking of. But to his surprise, Dumbledore gave a more useful, albeit vague, answer.

"While one needs companion ship, the other craves understanding. One must analyse their own desires, Tom. Should those desires coincide with needs, our other desires must be let go."

Tom processed the words and almost let his sarcasm obvious, "I shall take that into consideration as I am sure it is relevant."

"Indeed." The glint in the man's eyes remained there. "Is that all, Mr. Riddle?"

"Quite." Relieved that the discussion was nearing its end, he got up, muttered thanks to the professor and showed his way out.

"Perhaps it would be prudent to focus more on travelling instead of the transfiguration, Mr. Riddle. It seems like the more vital part of the process." Dumbledore said with finality before closing the door before Tom could respond.

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After having hot oil spring from the frying pan onto his skin, Harry got a nasty blister on his arm. Dudley had jeered at Harry's yelping then said that the freak deserved it when his mother asked what was so funny. His uncle smirked at Harry while Petunia told him to continue cooking. The best he could do to take care of the nearly acquired blister was wipe the hot oil off. It had stung a lot but his relatives had not given him a chance to mend it. From the look of his aunt, Harry believed that she was battling internally with herself after seeing the boy. However, when she caught his glance, she sneered and told him that they couldn't wait all day.

Briefly, Harry was allowed a break after he had cleaned the dishes after the Dursleys had eaten while he only had a few scraps. Initially, he had wanted to go visit his friend in the cupboard but he knew that a little fun would have to wait. He really needed to run his blister with cold water or better yet, put ice on it. He would have done that before he had eaten but he knew that he would only be allowed food while the family ate. He was never allowed to eat on his own.

After five minutes of cooling down underneath the tap, Petunia ordered him to go straight to the gardens. She never gave him gloves to protect his small hands nor did he have shoes that were good quality. That made his job outside considerably harder as well as uncomfortable. Thankfully, it wasn't terribly hot that day so Harry didn't have to deal with sweating too much.

A new batch of blisters peppering his hands and feet later, the sun was already starting to set. Petunia made sure to that Harry had gotten rid of every single weed and add in more seeds. Finally finished, he tiredly entered the house for dinner. He was glad that he was not allowed to cook supper. Harry never understood why he had to cook at all. He wasn't amazing. Actually, he wasn't even good at cooking. But Harry didn't realize that it was because he was only five years old. To him, he just wasn't good at something. Aunt Petunia was a much better cook. He had remembered when she had taught him the ropes of the stove the year prior. She had made very delicious soup for everyone while Harry had only managed to make wonky salads. That was when he was ordered to cook breakfast. That way, he only had to handle simple flap jacks and sausages instead of pork chops or anything of the like.

Petunia had made chicken that night and as usual, Harry got the smallest bits while Vernon and Dudley would gobble down their food like the pigs they were. Even if he had a large portion of the chicken, he would have likely lost his appetite from the sight that was in front of him.

Dudley's chubby cheeks were plastered with orange sauce. The napkin that was tied around his neck served no purpose since he didn't bother wiping his mouth off on it. When the boy did, he would use his poor sweater's sleeves. Why Petunia bothered with good quality clothes on her son was a mystery to Harry.

Vernon who wasn't unlike his son's build, had too drumsticks clasped into each hand. His eyes squinted every time he bit into his food and would chew loudly and with his mouth wide open. The entire time, Harry kept his head down so he wouldn't have to see the disgusting site in front of him.

Petunia, on the other hand, only had a handful of food more than Harry. She was watching her figure, she would always say. A respectable man should be a respectable size. But a proper lady must watch what she consumes. Instead of the monstrous bites that her son and husband took into their pieces of chicken, the woman would take small nibbles and kept her back straight. A woman must always eat like she had a secret; Harry had caught her saying once. She ate the slowest out of the whole group. Harry ate quickly only out of fear that if he did something wrong, he would have taken in most of his food in case they would threaten to take away the rest from him. It happened quite often really.

The first time it happened, Harry was only three years old and he had spilled a bit of milk while he was drinking it. Petunia screeched because they had just gotten that tablecloth a week ago. Looking back, it was a ridiculous reason to be punished for. Weren't tablecloths meant to protect the wood of the table? So wouldn't that mean that they would have to get dirty anyway? But of course, Harry had no say in the matter and Vernon jerked Harry's plate from underneath him and gave Harry's food to Dudley. Harry frowned and nearly cried because he had hardly eaten anything.

At seeing the boy's reaction, Vernon smirked and thought it to be a very good spontaneous punishment so he continued snatching Harry's food. He would get punished anything. Once he got caught staring at the way Vernon would take down his food. The man didn't like the way he was being looked at so he took the rest. Once, Dudley kicked Harry for no reason. Petunia heard the thump underneath the table and raised her eyebrow at Harry. They always assumed that it was him causing the problem. Or course, his cousin blamed it on him and to Dudley's delight, the chubby boy got the rest of Harry's meal.

That night, Harry was lucky enough to actually eat his entire meal. However, he felt sick from shoving the food into his mouth so fast. At least he wasn't hungry anymore. The small boy made his way to his cupboard underneath the stairs but was careful not to rush himself otherwise he'd hurl. It took a lot of his self-control to not run along.

He was, after all excited to finally see his new friend. During all his chores, he had decided upon a name. It took much thought; the name had to be perfect. At first, he had considered calling the bear the generic "Teddy" but decided against it. He wouldn't want his friend to have such a common name. Eventually, Harry concluded with Blinker. He remembered when he first looked at the bear and its red eyes were very unique. He would have been scared if the rest of the plush bear wasn't so cute.

Crawling through the tiny door, Harry whispered, "Hey guess what? I've come up for a name for you!"

For some reason, he waited for a response and actually got worried but not because he didn't get one. Something felt wrong. With haste, Harry shut the door behind him and pulled his mattress off the floorboards that were hiding Blinker.

"Blinker?" his face faltered at the sight of an empty hole. The teddy bear wasn't there. A wave of feelings hit him. Inwardly, he cursed at himself for being such a baby. It was just a toy after all. Even if it was his first toy, it shouldn't matter that much to him anyway. Though, it did feel special because a star had given it to him.

Maybe the star was only to grant him a temporary wish. Perhaps Harry was only allowed to sleep with his teddy for one night and that was all? Harry lay in bed with the single light bulb off leaving him in the darkness with his thoughts. His heart sunk at the next possibility. What if the star meant to give Harry a friend but took away Blinker because Harry didn't treat the bear right? He did, after all shove the poor thing into a dark, dirty hole.

Laying there for almost an hour, Harry thought of even more scenarios and mentally beat himself up for losing his only friend. A special friend, no less. When he fell asleep, he felt even lonelier than he had ever felt before.

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It had been an excruciatingly long day for Tom. Not only did he have to juggle his homework and his followers, he had spent all of his free time researching in the library. He hadn't found much. Most of the things that Tom came across, he knew already. For once, he followed Dumbledore's advice and researched several ways to transport someone. Tom could have been transfigured then got side-along apparated but he hadn't been able to see anyone. When he had reached what seemed to be the desired destination, he was only with that Muggle boy. Perhaps he touched a portkey that was jinxed to transfigure him while he travelled. That made the most sense. However, Tom didn't come up with these ideas from books. When he couldn't find anything new in the books, he resulted in staring blankly at a book and pretended to read so people wouldn't stare and begin to think of possible situation. After much frustration, he decided to go to sleep. The library was going to close in ten minutes anyway.

"_While one needs companion ship, the other craves understanding. One must analyse their own desires, Tom. Should those desires coincide with needs, our other desires must be let go." _The old coot had said. What was that supposed to mean? The boy still didn't even know if the whole scenario was a dream or something else. The only thing that Tom was sure of was that without a doubt, Dumbledore had done something to him. The old man must be trying to teach him a life lesson of sorts. The thing was, Tom didn't want to learn a bloody life lesson especially not from Dumbledore.

Tom replayed the memory in his head while he lay in bed but the word that stuck out the most to him was 'desire'. Perhaps it really did have something to with that potion with Slughorn. But he failed to believe that something as simple as a wishing potion could transfigure a teenage boy _and_ teleport him somewhere. Tom frowned in thought. Before he fell asleep, he promised to go search in the library once more the next morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **The Most Dangerous Teddy Bear  
**Rating: **M  
**Warnings:** Child abuse, eventual male on male, swearing, angst, major fluff, hilarity  
**Disclaimer:** The only thing I own is a stuffed Voldemort toy that I made which inspired this _fanfiction_ story.  
**Summary: **All Tom wanted was someone to call an equal. All Harry wanted was a real friend. Both got what they wanted but not how they expected  
**AN:** Thank you for all the lovely reviews! Again, I'm going to do my best with updating this but at this point, I can't really promise much.

Bluby: Hahah, actually no. I'm one of those people who get random bursts of creativity when I'm bored. So one day when I was grounded, I decided to just make myself a Voldemort stuffed toy. There's a picture in my profile's bio if you care, haha.

Sweetjellies: …Hehehhehe…

And here (http: / / r13gk) is some lovely fan art by bnkn62 on tumblr. Check out the blog~ :D

"Normal speech"

'_Thoughts'_

"_Parsletongue"_

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Harry kept his eyes tightly shut as if it would relieve him of the pain of his uncle dragging him along by the ear. His voice cracked a little when he spoke but it was clear how desperate he was to get the huge man away from him. "I swear I don't know! One second the glass was there and the next it was gone! It was like magic!"

For some reason, that last word set Vernon's temper on a whole new level. Harry was only glad that they were already right by his little cupboard. He wasn't sure how much more his poor ear could take. If Vernon would be tugging at his ear for much longer, Harry was sure that it would rip off.

"There is no such thing as magic!" Never before had the almost-eleven-year-old seen or heard the man so angry before. It frightened the boy a lot.

When the small boy got thrown into his cupboard, he expected his back to collide with the cold wood. Honestly, from the number of times that he was shoved in there, he was surprised that the wall hadn't given way by then. He braced himself for the impact and hoped that he didn't get a bruise. With Vernon being so furious, he knew that the men would use even more force. Instead, he felt something cushioning him. It wasn't much help because he could still feel a sharp sting that ran through his body but it was better than nothing. Had whatever the object was not been there, it was without a doubt that Harry would be in more pain.

He sat immobile in that spot to gather himself and did his best not to cry. From all the years of being missed treated by the Dursleys, he knew that what they were doing was wrong. He wasn't going to report them because he honestly believed that everyone would think that he was lying despite all his bruises. Besides, he couldn't let them win. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction that he had given up. He wasn't going to cry.

Bringing his knees up to his chin, Harry sat there crawled up into a little ball, thinking about what had just happened. It was Dudley Dursley's birthday and he had been forced to tag along with the family and Dudley's friend, Piers Polkiss. The feeling of dislike was mutual between the two. Piers didn't like Harry because his best mate didn't like the runt. Harry didn't like Piers because he seemed really stupid for following Dudley around and bowed down to the boy's every command.

Harry had been glad when he was finally able to separate himself from the group. He didn't even want to be there in the first place. But of course, the Dursleys didn't trust Harry to be able to behave himself for a couple of hours.

When Harry had caught sight of a rather large but beautiful snake on display, he had no idea what sort of trouble that would get him into. At first, he was surprised when he was able to understand when the snake spoke to him. But on hindsight, it was rather typical. Harry wasn't called a freak for nothing. The conversation he and the snake had was very pleasant. In fact, it was first interesting conversation he had ever had in his life.

Leave it to Dudley and his little friend to ruin everything. Piers thought it would funny to announce that Harry was hissing at a snake (which Harry thought was ridiculous; he and the snake were speaking in English!). Next thing he knew, the glass that confined the python disappeared, Dudley and Piers were in place of the snake, and everyone else in the zoo was screeching about a loose snake.

Harry was scared and felt helpless while just sitting there. Lately, Harry had been able to do weird things and he had no control over them. It was like that one time when Aunt Petunia sheared off all of his messy black hair only to look untouched the next morning. It was even worse when a stranger with peculiar clothing bowed to him saying how much of a pleasure it was to meet the 'Great Harry Potter'.

Could people tell that he was different? Was that man just mocking him? Harry hated not knowing what was going on.

He didn't know how long he sat there for, worrying about what would happen to him and what have already transpired. Eventually, his thoughts wore him down and he realized that he wanted to sleep. Maybe this was all some sort of bad dream and he would wake up to a completely normal day.

At the back of his mind, he wished that he would wake up to two smiling adults that he looked like. He wanted to wake up to see his parents. Rationality trounced on that thought and Harry knew that obviously wouldn't happen. It was like when he wished for his little bear friend to come back to him five years before.

Even though he was turning eleven soon and stuffed toys were for babies, Harry couldn't stop himself from wishing that the red eyed bear would come back. It was lonely as ever. It didn't matter to the boy that the bear was inanimate and did not appear to be a living being, Blinker made him feel like someone was there with him.

When Harry shifted his position to lie down on his mattress, he was reminded that something had softened his collision with the wall. It was then when he realized that during the entire time he was sitting on a soft lump.

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When Tom woke up the next morning, he realized that his wand hadn't made any sort of noise to alarm him. He had cast an awakening charm so that he would have extra time in the library before breakfast. The faster he found out what was going on with him, the better. But the boy realized that he had woken up on his own which only meant that he had either gotten up too early or the charm didn't work.

To him, neither was likely. The prefect hated mornings so he doubted that he would even stir at that time of day. It wasn't like him to fail at casting such a simple spell either.

Frowning, Tom opened his eyes. It was so dark in the room he was in he had momentarily believed that his eyelids were still shut. But a crack underneath the door that wasn't too far away gave way to a little ounce of light. It wasn't much but he had gathered that he was what seemed to be a cupboard.

It felt as if Tom's eyes widened comically with realization.

_No_.

Hastily, he tried to get up or at least flap his arms about. He couldn't move. He tried everything from screaming out for help, kicking in frustration (and then he realized he couldn't), and wiggling his toes. Nothing happened.

'_You have got to be kidding me.' _Tom wished that he had a little more light. He needed to be able to confirm that he was a teddy bear again.

Calming down, Tom took mental notes for when he would be able to get back to Hogwarts. Was this going to happen every time he was going to sleep? It didn't make sense though. When he was a bear for the first time, he had fallen asleep with the boy and has still remained a bear the next morning.

"I swear I don't know! One second the glass was there and the next it was gone! It was like magic!" a voice interrupted his train of thought.

It sounded like the boy he had been with before but it seemed slightly deeper. It was hard to tell since he was yelling.

Even when he was confined in a separate room, it was obvious that the boy was struggling away from someone else's grasp.

"There's no such thing as magic!" Another familiar voice roared. It was the uncle, Tom remembered.

'_Ignorant Muggle.'_ Tom thought to himself.

The tiny door opened for just a second. He saw a very large, round man at first. Inwardly, Tom couldn't help but smirk for guess that aspect right when he was deciding how the family from the outside looked like. Next thing he knew, a body was being flung in his direction just like the first time he was a bear.

'_Ooof!'_

Surprisingly, it didn't hurt when the body collided with him. However, that didn't stop the feeling of annoyance that was bubbling up in him.

He heard a bit of sniffling and knew that the boy was crying. Tom came to realize that he didn't even know the name of the green-eyed child. Whenever 'Petunia' and her lot called for him, they stuck with 'freak' or 'boy'. Did he not have a name? With the kid being treated in such a way, it wouldn't be surprising if the family hadn't even spared him with a name to be acknowledged by.

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Tom soon got frustrated with the boy that was still sitting on him. He had tried to keep his patience intact because he knew that it was inevitable that they boy would mope after being abused but it had been hours since the child had moved. Occasionally, he would shift his weight which only added to Tom's discomfort.

'_Stupid boy,'_ Tom had growled at one point even though he knew he wouldn't be heard. _'Can he not feel that he is sitting on something?'_

Perhaps the boy was comfortable. That, however, did not give him permission to sit on Lord Voldemort. If only the child knew what Tom would become, surely he wouldn't dare sit on a Dark Lord. It wasn't long before Tom began to reveal in the power that he would soon acquire when he would be older. To an outsider, he may have seemed like a wide-eyed child dreaming of a future job.

He was so caught up in his plans for the future that he didn't realize that the black haired boy had finally gotten off of him. Suddenly, a single light bulb that was hanging from the ceiling of the small little cupboard turned on. He was face-to-face with an older version of the person he had met the other night.

Not much had changed, it seemed. He still had large, vibrant green eyes that didn't look natural. Also, his hair was messy as ever. The only difference was he looked like he was eight or nine. Tom knew better though. With the child being abused, it was likely that he was malnourished as well. Though, the kid could be no older than ten or eleven.

"Blinker?" Hands came to Tom's sides and he almost bothered with telling the child to unhand him.

'_Excuse me?'_ He couldn't stop himself. Then he realized that the boy was going to give him a name before he had disappeared to go do his chores. _'Well, it's better than something petty like Fluffy.'_

"You're back!" Next thing he knew, Tom was being squished against the boy's chest. Again, he considered telling the boy to get off of him but it would have been pointless since he wouldn't be heard.

Eventually, the boy had turned off the light while the boy kept a tight grasp on him as if Tom would disappear again. Tom had no other choice but the stay in the child's arms while the other started to ramble on about what had happened the past few years. Tom found out that when he had last been a bear, Harry was five years old but he was listening to a ten year old Harry. The fat man was named Vernon and Dudley was the spawn, Tom learned even if he couldn't have cared less. But he listened because in the back of his mind, he knew how the boy felt. He knew how much the boy just wanted someone to understand. Tom just couldn't admit to himself that he actually was able to relate to someone else. After being a long for so long, he was used to him being the different one.

"My name's Harry, by the way. Harry Potter." Potter? The boy couldn't possibly be one of the Potters. They were an old line of purebloods. From what Vernon had said before, Harry had to be a muggle as well. Otherwise, it wouldn't make sense.

After the mention of Harry's last name, Tom was actually interested. For all intents and purposes, he refused to admit that he was actually intrigued with what the boy was saying about himself. No. Tom had to find out if Harry truly was one of the Potters. Of course.

Harry went on about himself this time instead of his relatives. Apparently his parents had died in a car accident and were completely worthless, according to Petunia. Harry didn't believe her. Somehow, he had a gut feeling that his parents were special just like him.

Soon, Tom started to listen even closer when Harry began to speak about the strange things that were happening to him. How when Dudley was chasing him at school, he somehow had been able to jump on top of a roof to avoid getting beaten. Then Tom came to realize that Harry was a wizard. His mother must have either been a muggle or a muggleborn if he had to be stuck with his muggle aunt and uncle after his parents' deaths.

"Another weird thing happened today, Blinker." Harry began about his day. "It's Dudley's birthdays today so we had gone to the zoo with his friend."

'_His friend must be as worthless as him.'_

"These weird things always happened underneath people's noses. No one had ever actually seen any of these things happen to me. But today, people must have been able to at least see me talking to that snake."

Tom would have frozen if he hadn't been still already. Talk to a snake? No, that wasn't possible.

"He was lonely and caged up just like me." Harry said sadly.

Was Harry related to him? He remembered when he had first turned into a bear he had thought that he was looking at a younger version of himself. The similarities weren't anything too alarming though. They both had pale skin and black hair. It couldn't be possible that Harry was related to him! He had just killed the rest of his relatives that summer. Was it possible that there were few other than Slytherin's line that could speak parsletongue? He doubted that the Potters would be blessed with the skill. They were all Gryffindors through and through. It was also evident that the mother didn't carry the skill. Looks like Tom had to research another thing.

Tom continued to listen to Harry's story and when the boy said that he had accidently caged up Piers and Dudley, Tom couldn't help but snicker and comment by saying that they deserved it.

Learning that there was a possibility that Harry was a parslemouth, Tom finally acknowledged his... tolerance for the boy. He wouldn't go so much to say that he actually liked Harry. That was ridiculous. Tom didn't like anyone. With his tolerance came a strange sense of protectiveness. When Tom was able to get back to Hogwarts, he was going to set Harry free and perhaps even let the boy serve to him. With their similarities, Tom was sure that Harry felt the same way he did about muggles and would want to rid the world of them too. Perhaps Tom would even let Harry be in his inner circle when he would be old enough.

Tom couldn't help but wonder if he had somehow travelled through time as well. When he had been with Harry the first time, the other boy was five years old. With him on his second visit, Harry was already ten. Who knew how old Harry actually was back in Tom's time.

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All the Dursleys were in a foul mood.

Vernon was furious that the boy had dared to use his freaky powers in public. When he and Petunia married, he thought he knew what he was getting himself into. All Petunia had told him was that her sister wasn't the most stable of people and she was strange down to the bone. He was reluctant at first but he knew that he had nothing to worry about Petunia herself. After all, every family had their own bad egg. Not long after Vernon had met Lily, the girl was whisked away by a boy of her kind and got married. Good riddance.

Little did he know, he would eventually be forced to take in her grotesque son. He especially believed that he had managed to engrave it into Harry's messy little head to never step a foot out of line. Vernon honestly thought that he was such a good person for putting up with the nuisance.

Petunia couldn't believe how much damage her sister's son had caused her socially. All around the neighbourhood were talks of the Dursleys being involved with a python escaping the zoo. It was even worse when she had caught wind of the rumours that weren't so far from the truth about their nephew being the cause of it all. Petunia had believed that when he sister married that Potter fool, she wouldn't have to be involved with all her magical messes. When she was younger, she may have been jealous of her sister for possessing powers and not she but she had grown up. There were much more important things than petty magic.

Dudley was upset at Harry for causing such a stir. Piers had joined on the bandwagon of the Harry hate club but his parents were so stressed out, they weren't focusing on him enough. His mother was so keen on getting the neighbours to think highly of their family again, she was on the phone all the time. She was organizing tea parties and social gatherings. His father on the other hand, didn't care as much as his mother but he was intent on thinking of a suitable punishment for Harry.

What Dudley was most upset about was that he hadn't gotten his 'day after' cake. He always got another cake the day after his birthday!

So the boy had gotten up extra early just so he could torment his cousin for all his wrong doings.

Bounding down the stairs, the round boy made sure to stomp down harshly on every step just as he did the day before. Whether his parents were awake or not, it didn't matter. They wouldn't care anyway.

When he reached the door to the cup, his pudgy eyes were pleased to see that his mother had already unlocked the door. She must have attempted to awaken Harry already. Swinging the door open, Dudley screamed at the top of his lungs.

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'_Is there an earth quake?'_ Tom asked himself when he felt his surroundings shake. Dust and grime were flowing down from the stairs above them.

Tom could feel Harry stirring as well. The boy groaned and put on his glasses.

"WAKEY WAKEY, HARRY!" the cupboard door swing open. A blond, round boy was grinning maliciously at his cousin from the entrance of their little haven. "What is this?"

Without giving a second thought, Dudley had snatched Tom from Harry's hands and examined the bear. Tom did not appreciate the intrusion on his personal space while he hung centimetres away from that troll of a face.

'_Let go of me you fat, insolent boy!'_ Tom tried to thrash around but of course, his attempts held no avail.

"Give him back!" Harry begged. Hearing ruffling behind him, tom figured that Harry was getting up to rescue him. A strange wave of relief ran through Tom.

But instead of being removed from the stubby fingers of Dudley, the blond boy had used his free hand to manoeuvre the smaller boy against the wall. At seeing Harry flinching from the pain of being thrown against the wall once again, Tom's fury heightened.

"You stole one of my teddy bears, didn't you?" Dudley growled.

"I didn't! He's _mine_!" Harry tried to reach out for Tom but Dudley's hold on his cousin grew tighter.

"What on earth is going on here?" Petunia appeared into the hallway clad in a bright pink robe that covered her night gown.

"He stole one of my teddy bears!" Dudley let go of his cousin but pointed an accusing finger. Tom couldn't help but role his eyes at the spoiled brat.

"I did not! I told you, he's mine!" Harry took advantage of not being restrained and pulled Blinker back to his chest. Tom couldn't help but feel safe within Harry's trembling arms. That didn't settle his desire for putting Dudley in his place, however.

Snarling, Dudley grabbed at Harry's arms, trying to pry the bear away from his cousin. Surprisingly, Harry's grip didn't falter so he began to shake as if that would make the situation any better. When Tom felt a hand at his head, he thought for a second that Dudley just might rip his head off. Would he die from that? But instead, he recognized the feel of the smaller palm and realized that Harry was just protecting him even more.

Tom felt foolish for having to be protected by some ten year old boy.

"Stop it!" Petunia shrieked and stomped toward the two boys. Immediately, Harry pulled himself and Tom even further from his cousin but Dudley was more reluctant. She would have believed her sons story of her sister's boy stealing the bear. However, she didn't recognize the toy and she certainly would have remembered if he son owned a teddy bear with red eyes.

Stopping before the two boys, she crossed her arms and brought herself to her full height. She fully intended to intimidate Harry as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Where did you get that bear, boy?" her tone was dangerous and Harry knew that if he lied there would be consequences.

"I don't know," he flinched and clung onto the bear even tighter when Petunia's frown deepened, "When I was five, he just appeared in my room. He disappeared the next day but he came back yesterday night."

"He's lying! He must have stolen it from my room!" Dudley grasped the bear's ear. Honestly, he didn't care if the bear got damaged even if it was his. Harry seemed to care more for the plushie so it would have made his cousin more distraught if he tore any part of the bear.

Feeling the pinch at his ear, Tom braced himself knowing that there was nothing he could do.

"Let go!" Harry screamed and moved his hand to pry Dudley off of Blinker. He felt a strange surge of power course through him and into the hand that was holding Dudley's.

This time, it was Dudley's turn to scream and flung his hand away from his cousin. Looking down at his fingers, he saw scorch marks where Harry had touched him. The freak had done something to him again! Fearfully, Dudley stepped away from the smaller child but managed to trip himself and landed on his fat bottom.

Petunia's hands had covered her mouth at seeing Harry use his magic once more. She was too afraid to scold the boy. What if he used his magic on her? Paralyzed, she watched him dart back into the cupboard and slammed the door behind him. Idly, she thanked the heavens that Vernon was a deep sleeper. No matter how much she despised the boy, she did not want her husband to interfere just yet. He would only be useful when Harry had calmed down. Otherwise, her husband would get hurt as well.

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Inside the dark cupboard, Tom tried his best to feel irritated that Harry was drenching his fur with soft tears. However, he couldn't help but feel proud that Harry had used his magic to harm his cousin. The git deserved what had come to him. A feeling of gratitude was lingering within Tom as well. Harry did protect him after all. The last thing Tom wanted was for him to die while he remained a bear.

Unlike the children in the orphanage, Harry didn't make much noise while he cried. They would moan and kick their legs around, trying to milk out as much attention as they possibly could. Harry, on the other hand, buried his face into his teddy's head and clung on for dear life. The most noise that emitted from Harry was the occasional sniffle. Tom understood how Harry felt and knew that Harry didn't want anyone to witness his moment of weakness.

Tom actually sympathised with Harry and wanted to comfort the younger boy.

Both were so caught in the moment, neither of them noticed that one of "Blinker's" paws had twitched. Eventually, the movement evolved into soft strokes on Harry's arm.

It wasn't long until the both of them fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:**The Most Dangerous Teddy Bear  
**Rating:**M  
**Warnings:** Child abuse, eventual male on male, swearing, angst, major fluff, hilarity  
**Disclaimer:** The only thing I own is a stuffed Voldemort toy that I made which inspired this _fanfiction_ story.  
**Summary:**All Tom wanted was someone to call an equal. All Harry wanted was a real friend. Both got what they wanted but not how they expected  
**AN:** Weeeeee~ I love all your reviews. They make me feel fuzzy inside :3 Have any of you guys gotten your pottermore emails? If so, what day did you register? I'm still waiting for mine ): ALSO, I apologize if I get a few facts wrong with regards to the Chamber of Secrets here. I haven't read the books in years.

"Normal speech"

'_Thoughts'_

"_Parseltongue"_

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When Tom had woken up after hearing a loud noise coming from his wand, he had to conceal his deep desire to throw something. Once again, he had woken up in his own prefect bedroom and was no longer with Harry. Even if he had idle plans to recruit the boy as one of his followers, he didn't want Harry to end up the way he did. Tom's child hood had been miserable and he certainly wouldn't wish it upon another young wizard who held any similarities as him.

Lying there in his bed, he contemplated whether he should falling back to sleep or even skip out on all his classes for that day just to dedicate it to researching. He knew neither sounded useful. Even though he didn't wish to stop his nightly visits to Harry, he wasn't about to let himself be ignorant to what he was going through. But from judging how he hadn't found much use in going through the library, he decided another approach. He, however, knew that he had to find out more about the Potter heritage. and if it coincided with the Slytherin line.

"I need you to find out as much as you can about the Potter line," Tom ordered the members of the Knights of Walpurgis the moment he entered the Slytherin Common Room after he had finished showering and changing into his uniform. "If any of you find out if one or more of the Potters had anything to do with Slytherin, the founder as well as the house, or if one of them had the ability to speak in parseltongue, you will inform me. I do not care if you stay in the library all day or skip meals. You will report to me by the end of the day. You are all lucky that it is a Saturday and do not have to miss any classes"

The group took a moment to give Tom incredulous looks knowing that before that day, Tom wanted nothing to do with the Potters. However, they knew better than to question him. If anything, Tom would simply repeat the instruction instead of answering the question.

Wisely, they nodded and Tom left for Slughorn's quarters. He needed to find out more about that potion they had brewed in class. Aware that whatever facts Slughorn was going to bring up about the potion would probably be easily found in a book that rested within the library, it was possible Tom had missed something since he was in such a rush. He was, after all, trying to stuff in as much information as he possibly could before his classes started.

On his way through the dungeons, Tom didn't pass by many students and for that, he was grateful. It was early in the morning during the weekend, no less.

It didn't take long to locate the potion master's chambers after visiting the professor several times throughout the years. The man had proved himself useful. Once there, he knocked on the wooden door firmly.

"One minute!" A hurried voice called out. Tom could hear shuffling behind the door and he couldn't help but feel curious as to what Slughorn was doing. Finally, the door opened to a surprised man clad in his usual work clothes. "Tom? What brings you hear this fine morning?"

"I would like to ask you something, Professor." The prefect noticed the way that the professor stiffened at the idea. Ever since Tom asked about horcuxes, the man seemed far more cautious around him. "May I come in?"

"Yes, yes of course." As if just remembering his manners, Slughorn moved out of the way. "What could possibly so urgent that you needed to ask so early in the morning?"

"I suppose it could have waited until after breakfast." Tom mused but remained looking at Slughorn straight in the eye. The man had to know that he meant business. "But I am not a patient person, Professor."

Slughorn frowned and Tom had to bite back a laugh at how scared he looked. To relax himself, Horace got up and brought back a tray with two tea cups, a tea pot, and a bowl of sugar. "Tea?" he offered the boy rigidly. Tom nodded and poured both of them a cup.

"You look as if I am about to ask you to help murder someone, Professor," Tom smirked knowing that wasn't too far from what the man was suspecting.

"Oh, of course not, Tom," Horace chuckled rigidly and nearly choked as he took a sip of his tea. "Now what is it that you would like to know?"

"It is about the potion we brewed in class, the wishing one. I don't believe you mentioned its name, actually." Tom noticed how visibly Slughorn relaxed.

"What a wonderful question, my boy." Tom took a sip of his tea and Slughorn got up to fetch a book. "Svet Zhelanie, or Light Desire in Russian, was first made by a man in Russia over three hundred years ago. It's a simple potion but extremely powerful. Unlike Voloserum, a similar potion that grants wishes as well, it wouldn't matter if a vile of Svet Zhelanie got put in the wrong hands. You see, Tom, even if someone used Svet Zhelanie for evil like killing, the potion is used for light magic. If one wanted to take another's life to protect someone, for example, the potion would only make sure that the one who needs protecting is safe but no killing is done. However if one wanted to take another's life for selfish purposes like acquiring an inheritance, the potion would have the money fall into another person's hands and leaving the wisher penniless. As I mentioned in class, it only grants requests to those who deserve it and comes with consequences if one does not. Voloserum, on the other hand, is far more complicated and dangerous. It is illegal in many countries as it grants wishes exactly as it is phrased."

"So that's its only limitation, then. It can only grant requests with a good intention. Other than that, it has no other bounds." Tom took a small sip of his tea while deep in thought.

"It can only involve the wisher and one other person. Many have tried to use the potion to solve environmental problems, stop wars, and stop global hunger. Also, if one who has been completely selfish in the past wanted something good like a lover. The potion would find a way to bother grant a wish as well as teach the wisher a lesson. The purer the person and the wish is, the more powerful the magic is."

Tom almost froze at how close Slughorn's example was to what was happening with him. The thought of having Harry as a lover made him sick. He no longer disliked the boy but that didn't mean he wanted to be romantically involved with anyone to say the least. Not to mention that he thought of Harry as someone that needed protecting like a younger brother. But teach him a lesson? What was there to learn with Harry? That he is not the only one who had a rough childhood? It didn't occur to him that the potion was trying to teach him how to love.

"Speaking of lovers," Slughorn started, "many have used the potion for such purposes. A more common form of requesting a significant other is wishing upon a star as it is far more romantic. It is said when one half of the couple uses Svet Zhelanie and the other wishes upon a star, the magic is the strongest it can bring two people together through time. I am not certain why though. It would make more sense if the bond was strongest if both wished upon a star. Perhaps it is because wishing upon a star is often a Muggle practice and Svet Zhelanie brings the wizard or wizard's magic into the question."

Through time? Did that mean that Harry had wished for something similar but on a star? Tom had absolutely no way of finding out unless Harry explained it on his own seeing as Tom could not speak whilst being a bear.

"It is quite the interesting potion, Svet Zhelanie. I was very excited when Professor Dumbledore had suggested teaching it to the class." Slughorn chuckled and took another long sip.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Tom refrained from narrowing his eyes, "Did he mention why?"

"A week ago, he enquired if the potion could stop the war that was going on. Many have tried to alter the potion in vain. When I explained that it could do no such things, he suggested I teach it to the class."

'_Dumbledore must have known that it wouldn't stop Grindelwald. He isn't foolish enough to think so. It must have just been a way for him to bring up the subject."_ Tom frowned inwardly, _'The old coot must have thought that I would use the potion to kill someone so he would get rid of me or something of the like.'_

"Oh, look at the time, Tom!" Slughorn looked at the teenager after glancing at the clock. "Breakfast is about to begin. We should make our way to the Great Hall."

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The rest of the day had hardly been very eventful. After Tom had finished eating breakfast, he decided to join the other Slytherin boys in the library. They were all seated at their regular table that stood nearest to the restricted section. The year before, Tom had put wards around the table so that no one else could claim the spot. If one of them was sitting there, the wards would react. They would be able to hear and see what was going on outside the barriers but it did not work vice versa. Whoever sat at the table would simply go on unnoticeable but was not invisible. It was a perception filter of sorts. It was extremely useful.

To his dismay, the boys had no relevant information to share with Tom. The best that they had come up with was that there were a few that were sorted into Slytherin or married one but held no significant power. So while his followers dug up more information about the Potters, Tom begin to research more on Slytherin's line and parseltongue. It was rather redundant to the boy. He had investigated the same thing before.

By the time acknowledged that it was useless trying to go through more books it had reached dinner time.

Tom ate without a word then disappeared into his own private quarters where he managed to finish all of his homework. He wanted to get it out of the way for the rest of the weekend. There was a possibility that something would come up with his next visit to Harry and would need to acquire more knowledge the next day.

When Tom tucked himself into bed that night, he set the alarm once more and looked forward to what would happen next.

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"What the bloody hell?" A red headed boy exclaimed.

"Language, Ronald!" A bushy haired girl appeared from the stairs that lead to the girls' dormitories. "What are you doing up this early anyway?"

"I couldn't sleep so I came down to play chess." Ron explained then whispered a command to one of the knights. "But then that thing appeared!"

"What are yo-" Hermione froze when she looked in the direction that her friend was pointing. There was a little black bear with a white muzzle sitting on the red sofa. "It's a teddy bear, Ron. It's not going to hurt you."

"It's got red eyes! What teddy bear has red eyes?" Ron squeaked but somehow managed to continue his game of Wizard's Chess.

It was a week after the whole fiasco with the Chamber of Secrets and things seemed to have been running smoothly. Defence Against the Dark Arts had been cancelled for the rest of the year due to Professor Lockheart's inability to continue with the rest of the term, much to Hermione's and many other girl's dismay.

"So you're afraid of teddy bears with strangely coloured eyes now?" Hermione giggled, "Your phobia of spiders was much more sensible, Ron."

"Oh shut up." Ron's ears turned red, "It appeared out of nowhere. One minute, the sofa is empty then the next some creepy bear is sitting there."

"Don't be silly. It was most likely there the whole time." She rolled her eyes.

"What are you two babbling about?" a pyjama clad Harry came down the stairs.

"Harry will believe me!"

"Believe you about what?" Harry's eyebrows furrowed together.

"Some red eyed bear appeared out of nowhere!" Ron threw his hands up. Harry looked at the sofa where Ron was gesturing to.

"Tell Ron he's just bein-"

"Blinker?" Harry whispered and made his way to the red coloured furniture.

"What?" Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.

"He's my bear. I had him when I was younger. Well… sort of. He would appear at random times but then disappear." Harry had to hold himself back from grabbing the plush toy and hugging it tightly. "I didn't think he would come to me while I was at Hogwarts…"

Harry wasn't looking at his two best friends. He was more concentrated on his bear that had returned. Hermione was studying him with a concerned look and Ron glared at Blinker like it was something suspicious.

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Tom stretched when he awoke and rubbed his eyes.

"IT BLOODY WELL MOVED! HARRY, WHY IS IT MOVING?"

Tom jumped at the sudden scream and looked around to take in his surroundings. The room looked similar to that of the Slytherin Common Room but it was adorned with red and gold decorations instead of green in silver. He was in the Gryffindor Common Room? It probably shouldn't have surprised him that Harry would follow in the footsteps of the rest of his family. But that didn't shake the fact that Harry was a parselmouth.

There were three kids that looked about twelve or so years old staring at him. Two were unfamiliar. One was a girl with big bushy hair and the other was obviously a Weasley. And then there was Harry who was looking at him with comically widened green eyes.

"He couldn't move back then." Harry whispered out.

Move? Tom could move? Experimentally, he lifted his right arm which caused the Weasley to squeak. Amazed, Tom tried the other arm curiously.

"It looks like it's the first time he could move." The girl spoke out with a tint of fascination.

Tom leaned forward and tried to manoeuvre himself into a standing position. In bear form, Tom was not used to doing so much movement and was not accustomed to the different body size. He had managed to stay up on his feet for several seconds. When he moved his head to look up to Harry proudly, Tom lost his balance and hurtled forward to the ground.

'_Merlin.'_ Tom groaned when his bottom hit the carpeted floor of the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Maybe… we should take him to Dumbledore, Harry." The girl suggested and the Weasley was nodding his stupid head franticly.

"But he's just a bear, Hermione."

'_Strange name.'_ Tom noted.

"But you said yourself that he couldn't move before." Hermione said carefully. "For all you know, he could be from Voldemort!"

'_What?'_ Tom froze.

"Look! It stopped moving when you said Voldemort! It _must_ be from Voldemort! It can probably move now that you trust it! It's trying to kill you, Harry!" With that, the Weasley grabbed the bear and made his way to the fire place.

"Stop!" Harry screamed and snatched his Blinker away from the Weasley. Instinctively, Tom clutched Harry's neck so the red head couldn't make a grab at him again. "Fine, we'll take him to Dumbledore if that settles you both."

Weasley shook his head and muttered, "Merlin, you just defeated Tom Riddle's diary. That bloke never gives up, I swear."

'_What on earth are they talking about?'_ Tom was confused. Voldemort was the name that had made his followers use. It meant 'flight of death' so Tom thought it was appropriate. It was impossible that they meant someone else seeing as it was a part of an anagram of his own name.

Tom was even more puzzled with the mention of his diary. Had Harry destroyed his first horcrux? The thought of such a silly thing baffled Tom. He knew that Harry was no average wizard but figuring out how to destroy a horcrux at the age of what, twelve? That didn't seem likely.

As they made it to Dumbledore's office, Tom wondered why they seemed like they were on the trail to the Headmaster's instead. He couldn't possibly be in a time when Dumbledore comes headmaster, could he?

Harry muttered the password to the infamous gargoyle and moved to knock on the door once at the top. To their surprise, it opened on its own accord.

"And what do I own the fine pleasure?" a familiar voice asked. Tom didn't have to turn his head to know that those sodding eyes were twinkling.

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Sitting in front of Dumbledore's desk, Ron and Hermione exchanged looks, wondering what to say to the Headmaster. Harry's face, on the other hand, made it obvious that he didn't want to be there. Eventually, his two friends turned to him expectantly, nudging him to explain all of this. Harry avoided all their glances.

Huffing, Hermione stepped forward. "This morning, Ron was going on about a teddy bear appearing out of nowhere. I didn't believe him at first. It was probably there the whole time and he just didn't notice it. Then Harry came down and he said..." She turned to him so he would continue the story.

"It's just a bear, Professor. It can't possibly cause any harm." Unconsciously, his grip tightened on Blinker.

"Then I assume this solves it then?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"It moved!" Ron blurted out, "Harry said that it would come and go when he was younger. I think it's from Voldemort. It must to here to kill him."

'_I'm not out to kill him!'_ Tom wanted to yell.

"Is this true, Harry?" Dumbledore turned to the boy.

"Yes." Harry said, defeated. "He appeared and disappeared every so often. He only came twice. And it was the first time he moved this morning! He's not trying to kill me!"

"Let me see the bear, Harry." Dumbledore said firmly and held out his hand. Hesitantly, Harry gave Blinker over.

'_Don't give me to him!'_ Tom tried to squirm away but Dumbledore' grip held him in one spot.

He squirmed under the scrutinizing glare of the man that looked older that when he last saw. Instead of dark auburn hair, this Dumbledore had a long, white beard with equally white hair. That must mean that he is in the future.

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"You three go down to breakfast. I do not want you to miss breakfast." Dumbledore said with a certain finality to his tone.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione, stood where they were for a moment, not wanting to leave before they found out what was going on. But without a word, they left, knowing that Dumbledore's decision wouldn't waver.

When the door clicked, Dumbledore walked over to place the bear on the chair where Harry had been sitting and placed the bear on it in a sitting position.

"Do not bother moving." Dumbledore commanded softly yet sternly. That didn't stop Tom from trying to get away. Apparently Dumbledore had known better and what felt like a sticking charm kept Tom from escaping. The old man reached out and tapped Tom's head with his wand, casting a nonverbal spell.

He felt himself grow in size and eventually his feet met with the floor. Looking down, Tom realized that Dumbledore had turned him back into his human form. Glancing back at Dumbledore, Tom bit back a laugh at seeing the old man so surprised.

"Who were you expecting?" Tom smirked, hoping that it hid his intimidation.

"What do you want with Harry, Tom?" Dumbledore frowned. "How did you manage all this?"

"I'm not trying to kill him as the red head mentioned," Tom said, "And I was hoping you would tell me. You were the one who suggested Slughorn to teach the class Svet Zhelanie. I assume you know exactly how this happened."

Dumbledore remained silent but continued to study Tom, trying to extract the truth. The boy sat still, doing his best not to look as intimidated as he felt. Dumbledore was the only person who ever made Tom feel so... small. They sat there for what seemed to be hours in unadulterated silence.

"What did you wish for, Tom?" Dumbledore finally broke the silent battle.

"They say that you if you tell someone what you have wished for, it will not come true, Professor." Tom wasn't about to tell the man his embarrassingly sentimental wish.

"Tom, I have no patience to play games with you."

"I didn't wish for something malicious." Tom stated just to stop the headmaster's suspicions. The old man nodded. "And I certainly did not ask to be a teddy bear."

"I wouldn't doubt that, Tom." The teenage boy was beginning to get annoyed with the man over using his name. It aggravated him even more when he saw a smile appear on that wrinkly face. "However, I need you to explain to me what has transpired. I did not oversee any of this sort to happen."

"We brewed Svet Zhelanie in class three days ago. I made my wish when my partner had left me alone. I have been appearing to Harry every time I have fallen asleep." He refrained for giving out any details.

"I see." Creased hands were propped up on the desk and their owner was deep in thought. Dumbledore was not sure what to make of this situation. For years, he had known that the prefect had a hidden agenda filled with ideas that would not do well for the future of the Wizarding world. He knew that Tom was just a boy so he could not bring himself to take away the orphan's life. Upon finding out about the obscure potion, he jumped at the opportunity. He had counted on Tom to desire for something malevolent. The potion wouldn't harm the boy but simply teach him a lesson of sorts. Dumbledore hoped that it would be enough to stop Tom from causing any damage.

Apparently, he had been wrong to assume that he knew the boy. Slughorn had said that many wished for lovers with Svet Zhelanie. Many who didn't have good intentions in the past had ended up with a similar situation. Did Tom ask for a lover? That did not seem likely. Perhaps he wanted someone to share his power with him. The potion must have read Tom's inability to love and instead of an equal to share selfish desires, the potion had granted Tom with someone that could change him for the better.

"Why do you let him live with them?" Dumbledore's thoughts were halted by Tom's vague question. In the background, he heard the soft patter of footsteps on the other side of the door. The boy sitting in front of him didn't seem to notice.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why does he live with those Muggles? Don't pretend that you don't know what they do to him." The blank expression that Dumbledore had seen was replaced with something akin to anger.

"Why is that your concern?" he knew full well why Tom was enquiring such a thing but he wanted the boy to say it out loud.

"They beat him." Tom was doing everything he could not to blow up.

"I think it is time that you returned to your other form, Tom." Dumbledore announced then directed his wand at the other.

"Answer the qu-"

Not letting him finish, a beam of light engulfed Tom and he felt himself shrink back into a bear.

TMRHJP TMRHJP TMRHJP TMRHJP

"For the last time, he's a bear and can't do any harm!" Harry huffed, "Dumbledore is probably just doing simple checkups just to settle the two of you down!"

"Then why would he send us out, Harry?" Hermione pointed out.

"He knows that something is off about that bear, mate." Ron agreed, "He most likely wanted you out of the room so you wouldn't have to witness seeing your childhood toy get destroyed!"

Harry frowned, defeated. He didn't want to admit to himself that Blinker was anything but good. Even if he thought it was just a bear when he was younger, Blinker had seen so much more than either of his best friends have.

"Look, let's just head back up to his office just to check up on things." Hermione said sympathetically. The best Harry could do was nod in agreement while Ron silently complained about going back and forth. The trio had eaten breakfast but couldn't shake off what had happened that morning off.

Once they reached Dumbledore's door, Hermione raised a hand to knock politely. Wanting to hear what was going on, Harry grabbed her arm just before it made contact with the wood and held a finger to his lips, silencing her. She looked like was about to protest but a voice that didn't belong to Dumbledore emitted from the other side. Squishing in together, the three of them pressed their ears to the door to get a better listen.

"Why do you let him live with them?"

Harry froze. Tom Riddle? No, it couldn't be! He had just destroyed the diary!

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why does he live with those Muggles? Don't pretend that you don't know what they do to him." The voice sounded furious. Harry was more confused than ever.

"Why is that your concern?"

"They beat him." Hermione and Ron looked at their friend with questioning looks.

"I think it is time that you returned to your other form, Tom."

"Answer the qu-"

A strong light must have coursed through the room as bits of it streamed through the crack at the bottom of the door.

"Was that Tom Riddle?" Ron asked.

"I don't know." Harry lied.

"Were they talking about you, Harry?" Hermione asked gently.

Harry tensed and did not want to answer the question. Luckily, the door swung open for the trio to see Dumbledore and Blinker sitting in separate seats.

"Miss Granger and Mister Weasley, I would like to speak with Harry alone."

They looked at Harry as if they needed approval. The green eyed boy nodded and they left. Clearly knowing that the two would eavesdrop, Dumbledore cast a silencing charm on the door once Harry sat down.

"I don't want him anymore." Harry said finally.

Tom looked up at him. If he were human again, he would have showed his surprise. What the hell was going on? What had Tom done to Harry?

"May I ask why, Harry?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"He's Tom Riddle, sir. Ron was right. Blin- it's here to kill me." Harry was looking down at his hands.

"Harry, when you first met... Blinker, did you make a wish of any sort that day?" Dumbledore's statement made Harry finally meet the old man's eyes.

"I..." Harry paused to think but then he remembered. "Yes, I wished for a friend on a star. Maybe Voldemort heard somehow and sent Blinker as some sort of trick."

"Harry, I need you to understand something." Dumbledore waited until Harry would look at nothing but back at him. "When a wizard or witch looks upon a star with a completely good natured wish, it is rare for that wish to come true. But when it does, the magic that is used to materialize the desire is one of the most powerful forms of light magic, Harry."

"But what if—"

Dumbledore raised a hand. "Seeing as Mr. Riddle was plunged through time and was unwillingly transfigured into a teddy bear suggests that the star decided to grant your wish, Harry. It is impossible for him to be sent on a mission to kill you if he did not even know who you were before this whole predicament."

Harry didn't know what to say. What had caused the star's magic to think that Harry could find a friend within Tom Riddle? It made no sense at all.

"Now, perhaps you should take Blinker back to your dormitory." Dumbledore gestured to the bear in the seat next to the boy. "Oh and would you like a lemon drop? I have forgotten my manners."

"No thank you, sir." Harry mumbled as he picked up the bear awkwardly and left the headmaster's office. He just couldn't bring himself to look at Blinker the same way.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was a bit rushed. Can you tell?**


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